


Little Lost Spirit

by ncfan



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Adoption, Developing Relationship, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt-Comfort, Gen, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 02:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncfan/pseuds/ncfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She'll never forget the way he looked at her, the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Lost Spirit

_He has a fever again,_ Touko thinks to herself, worry creasing her brow as she goes for her coat. She doesn't really want to leave Takashi alone in his state, but the grocery store isn't that far away and she can be there and back in no time. He'll have that pudgy little cat of his for company; Touko will get back as soon as humanly possible.

Maybe she's just being overprotective. Touko has never personally dealt with a child for extended periods of time before, and it's certainly been a long time since she was a child herself. Takashi ventures out into the forest and the great unknown as much as any curious teenage boy who's used to being on his own and having to find his own way. He could just be picking up these constant colds and trifling ailments from the stiff wind and the fact that he doesn't remember to wear the proper sort of things young boys need to be wearing in the cold unless she reminds him.

Of course, Takashi looks… _frail,_ even at the best of times. Even when he is not sick nor even threatening to be sick, his face is pale and just a touch strained. He always looks so tired, and usually isn't very energetic at all. Sweet boy, but often so listless. Touko starts to wonder if he doesn't have anemia; he does display some of the symptoms of an iron deficiency. _I'll have to ask the doctor about that when we go tomorrow._

Touko smiles to herself as she fumbles with the buttons on her coat. _Listen to yourself. Fussing like the mother of a newborn. He's a teenager, not a baby._

Of course, Touko's never had a newborn to care for; she has to start somewhere. And it's hard not to fuss over Takashi, all things considered.

_She'll never forget the way he looked at her._

_It's dusk, and Touko isn't sure she has the right place. "I should have asked for directions, she murmurs." The deep purplish-red light makes the shadows melt into the road and the trees; she has to be careful not to trip over the stray rock or protruding root._

_The boy is very slight and pale. He's wandering about in the autumn cold without a coat; he doesn't seem outwardly affected by the cold but Touko can see a faint blue tint paling his lips and his teeth chatter slightly, despite his attempts to hide it. Just in that thin shirt and pants, he looks ready to blow away in the wind. Touko has to restrain herself from telling him to run home and get a coat and a flashlight if he wants to walk around outside at this time of year at this time of night._

_They talk and though the boy—Natsume Takashi, just as she suspected—is nothing but polite. He does not once raise his voice or speak in an even remotely disrespectful manner. But there's just something there that strikes Touko the wrong way._

_He seems to be holding back. There is something rote and vague to his politeness, and the one smile that Touko sees flit over his face, so briefly, is half-hearted and plainly forced._

_Sadness is at the core of his whole being._

" _Could it be… You don't want to go home?"_

_There's that forced smile and a denial so quick and animated that Touko can't help but see it as anything but a lie. Her expression softens and she asks him what she was coming to ask in the first place._

" _Takashi-kun… If you want to, why don't you come live with me?"_

_And there, there is the sort of look that Touko never expected to be confronted with, at least not by a young teenager, a child. An empty, uncomprehending look. He looks so lost, looks at Touko like he's never seen anything quite like her before._

_Like he's never heard anyone say that they want him to live with them before._

Touko had not known why he would look at her like that, not then. Well, maybe she had, but just hadn't wanted to think about what that could mean. She just knew that looking at him made her sad, and gave her a sense of urgency that made her pray that he would accept her offer to come live with her and Shigeru.

In all her years, Fujiwara Touko never had any children of her own. There was never any opportunity for it, and by the time she and Shigeru had the means to care for a child Touko was past the age to be having one. It was just them in that house, and when they were gone, and when they were gone, then what? Touko couldn't help but think that the halls were too quiet and the house too still.

She heard Takashi's name mentioned in a conversation with a cousin. An orphaned child, the son of one of Touko's more distant relatives. Apparently his parents had never married, and that was why he was going by his mother's name, Natsume, instead of Touko's relative's surname. He had been passed from relative to relative since he was just a toddler, no one keeping him for more than a few months.

Well, naturally, Touko was curious, and starting to wonder whether or not Takashi would want to live with her and Shigeru. The relatives he ended up with never seemed to want him around for very long; maybe he would be happier with them.

Many things she heard in the course of trying to find out where Takashi was now, and none of them good.

" _Hassle."_

" _Odd kid."_

" _Liar."_

" _Freak."_

" _Burden."_

If the constant and never-ending gossip was to be believed, Natsume Takashi was the problem child to end all problem children. Strange things and small accidents seemed to follow him wherever he went. He was near-silent, often sick or hurt (past foster parents inevitably grumbled about the hospital bills), and made little to no attempt to socialize with other children his age. And he told stories. Unbelievable stories, stories that were obviously lies.

All of this only made Touko more determined to see him for herself.

It is all too easy, she will always maintain, to make up excuses for why they can't keep him, for why they shunted him off to the next in line. Excuses devised to hide the reality that they never wanted him to begin with, that they took Takashi in out of obligation and nothing more.

The accidents, small things breaking in his wake? Those incidents, Touko was sensible enough to know, were either genuine accidents or a child's way of acting out when he was neglected. If you never speak to your foster child, he isn't going to talk to you often; he likely isn't going to attempt to make friends with the other children either, expecting to be shipped off any day.

As for the stories… If Touko believed the others when they talked about the stories, she'd say that, again, this is the behavior of a child severely lacking in the attention he needs. If she had believed them. However, no one she talked to would ever tell her what Takashi's alleged stories were about, and from that Touko could only assume that, again, they were making up excuses for why they couldn't keep him.

_Key, key, where did I put the house key?_ Touko sighs as she looks around the kitchen for the little key. She considers enlisting Takashi's help in finding the key, but decides not to; he really does need to rest. However, she does turn in the general direction of his room and call, "Takashi, don't open the door for anyone, alright? I should be back soon." _Once I find the key,_ she adds mentally.

"Yes, ma'am," comes the faint response.

Touko knew that all of those stories told to her had one intent, and one only: to discourage her from seeking Takashi out. As it turned out, the effect those stories had on her were the exact opposite of their intent. They only made her want to see him more.

What Touko saw…

_Were they even describing the same child?_

That meeting only impressed upon Touko the urgency of convincing Takashi to come with her. She knows sadness and suffering when she sees it and even if Takashi wouldn't own up to it, the weight was telling clearly on him, his shoulders bowed and his strangely flimsy form barely staying up straight. A talk with his current foster parents told Touko clearly that they had little, if any, regard for him; they were just like nearly everyone else Touko spoke to, dismissive, contemptuous, even a little frightened. They talked and the way they described Takashi made Touko's stomach tie itself into knots.

Shigeru felt just as keenly (though he was somewhat more restrained about it) just how quiet the house was, but he didn't understand why it had to be _now. We have to give it time,_ he'd said. _We have to go through proper channels; you know that, Touko._

Over the years, Touko had amassed a sizeable number of injured animals treated in her home. Be it cats, dogs, rabbits, squirrels, birds or even the occasional fox. If it was injured and she found it, she would carry it home with her, and do what she could to nurse the poor creature back to health. She did not discriminate.

This Shigeru had observed with bemused tolerance. Touko knew, deep down, that Shigeru suspected her urge to help sick and injured animals came from some sort of unfulfilled maternal urge, but that the fact that he had no desire to hurt her kept him from saying so. The process of nursing wounded animals back to health wasn't exactly eating them out of house and home and it made Touko happy, so he didn't argue with it (Though he did tend to get a bit panicky—as panicky as Shigeru could get, anyway—whenever one of the animals had the occasion to scratch or bite his wife, which was often).

" _Touko…" Shigeru sighs and shakes his head, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "Natsume Takashi is not one of your hurt animals. He is a human boy. There are rules as regards to this sort of thing. I told you before that we have to go through proper channels, and it may take a while. Just be patient," he adds more gently._

_Touko tosses her head helplessly. He talks sense, but still… "I just have a very bad feeling," she confesses._

" _You'll just have to wait a while longer. I promise we'll do this as quickly as we can. And remember, if he doesn't_ want _to come live with us, we can't force him."_

If she knows anything about herself, Touko knows that she has an instinct for wounded creatures. Wounds are not always matters of the flesh. In fact, wounds of the flesh are probably the ones that need to be least worried about. A visible wound can be treated immediately; one not immediately apparent to the naked eye takes some work to discern, find, and heal.

Alarm and a treacherous _"I knew something like this would happen!"_ rang through Touko's mind, threatening to drown out all else, when she learned Takashi was in the hospital.

_Shigeru's opposition to speeding up the process of arranging Takashi to live with them is lost beyond recall the moment he lays eyes on him. Touko watches as he eyes the boy lying, either asleep or unconscious, on the hospital bed. With his pale skin and silvery-white hair (Touko wonders if it could be albinism), he seems to melt into the crisp, starched white hospital bed linens. It's like he's not all there. Shigeru looks at him, looks at all the bandages, and Touko watches him go just a touch pale._

" _This is intolerable," he finally hisses, white-lipped._

" _I told you."_

Finally, Touko finds the keys (well-hidden beneath odds and ends in a kitchen drawer; _Now how on Earth did it get there?_ ) and starts towards the front door. _Here's hoping it doesn't rain on me on the way._ Just to be safe, Touko takes an umbrella out of the closet, planning on carrying it to the grocery store.

In the face of physical injury, masks are often far more inclined to crack than they would be if the wearer was at their peak of good health.

_Sitting up in his hospital bed, despite Touko telling him not to, Takashi looks even more frail and flimsy than the last time Touko saw him. It's like someone's put some sort of leech on him and used it to suck him dry of all his strength and blood._

_He wears that genial, obviously false smile once again, and unlike last time, when it took Touko a few seconds to realize it was fake, it immediately rings false now. Just a hollow little thing._

_Takashi keeps saying "Please" over and over again, and at first he says it with a smile, but the more he says it, the more he sounds like a broken record player, repeating the same phrase, over and over again, until his hollow smile cracks and breaks and his pale gray eyes brim with tears._

_No one had to look very hard to see how unhappy he was, but he's not even bothering to hide it now._

Touko winces against the chill wind as she steps outside and pulls her scarf closer to her mouth.

Takashi is a very self-deprecating child, she understands now. He doesn't want to make trouble for anyone else, even at his own expense. Touko looked at him that first day, and saw what for all the world looked to her like a little lost spirit, just trying to find a home to return to, never complaining in the meantime even if he's sporting wounds the eye can't see. He just doesn't want anyone troubled on his behalf.

_But don't you understand?_ Touko wonders to herself as she starts down the road, humming absently to herself and smiling. It's a beautiful day out, even if it is so chilly and just a touch overcast. The air is crisp and clean; it makes her feel young again.

_It's no trouble at all._


End file.
